


Exhale Slowly

by DirtyHand



Series: McReyes week 2016 [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Breathplay, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, McReaper, smoke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-24
Updated: 2016-11-24
Packaged: 2018-09-01 23:14:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8642041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DirtyHand/pseuds/DirtyHand
Summary: Smoke is addictive.





	

**Author's Note:**

> McReyes Week Day 2: Smoke  
> /edited 26/Nov for flow/

 

 _Ashes fall to the ground,  five centimetres per second._  

⧪

 

_The smoke engulfs him.  Fluid, rich, almost silk.  Choking but not pungent, evil but not intimidating.  Gabriel’s color, Gabriel’s scent.  Almost tangible, almost real, almost-_

 

_Reaper towers over him, a powerful, commanding figure.  He looks up into dark, undecipherable eyes, the faintest flicker of crimson.  Possessive, avaricious, warm.  Haunting eyes that sets his heart ablaze, eyes that he had feared yet longed to see again, that he thought were shut forever.  And now they are all he sees as they stare back at him, scorching with life.  A clawed hand raises, clutching his jaw and holding him in place as Reaper descends on him.  Jesse closes his eyes and doesn’t fight._

 

_Reaper’s kiss is gentler than he imagined.  Soft, restrained, tainted with grief.  Almost chastse.  McCree kisses back, chasing, demanding, apologizing.  He is but a worshipper, a disciple  remembering the press on his lips, the taste of his devotion.  A drop of bitterness seeps into him, blossoming into sorrow and he reaches up with trembling hands, seeking to touch, to ask.  But his palms press against air and he falls, grabbing for support but finding none._

 

_“Boss?”  he opens his eyes._

 

_But Reaper is gone.  Vaporized, dissipated, slipped from his grasp in a twirl of smoke.  Leaving a lingering scent that makes his eyes water._

 

* * *

  

He pulls his serape tighter against the chill of the _Vandaval_.  Heavy clouds overlay the horizon and not a streak of light penetrates their veil; no taunting moon and prying stars, the world is a quiet, consoling darkness around him.  He takes a drag and the amber glow brightens in answer, unsteady as it crawls upwards.  He inhales through his nose, pulling the spicy taste into him, and closes his eyes.

 

He remembers his first cigarette.  Remembers snatching it from Reyes’ fingers; puffing out as he coughs; and a firm hand coming up to rest on his back, steadying him. The flavour surprised him, light and alluring, of burning oak and mellow spice, and he tried again.  Gabriel had said nothing then, only a look with unreadable weight, before taking out his packet again to draw a new one for himself, lighting it with a fluid _click_ and _chk_.  

 

His lips part.  Ghostly white tendrils escape in a languid swirl, and he ushers them out in a slow, drawn out breath.  The haze hovers around him as if a mask, lingering as it envelops him in familiar redolence.  A scent he craved for years.  Longed after, grasped, and abandoned.  He feels foolish as he lets it calm him.  Gabriel doesn’t smoke anymore.  

 

He turns his lighter in his palm.  Brass, a decent weight, warmed from his touch.  His thumb traces the engraving, fondness and remorse etched in two letters.  Half a year, and he still can’t believe he got Gabriel back.  Sometimes it feels like he hasn’t.  Like when he shadow-steps into Jesse’s space.  Like when Jesse hears his death blossom and turns to see a blood red storm, half man, half-vapour.  Like when he drops to his knees with the agony of a soul he reaped.  Like now, when he is not right here beside him.  

 

It is the tenderness that kills him.  The carefulness in his words, the softness of his touch.  Others may not notice, but Jesse reads it with painful clarity.  Shielded, withdrawn, beyond his reach.  

 

His communicator beeps.  Jack’s voice comes through, gruff and tired, the weight of the world in his tone.   _Shimadas found him.  Cuts and bruises, broken arm.  But otherwise unharmed._ A pause.  

 

 _He’s okay, Jesse.  Get some sleep._  

 

The dark clouds roll thicker, shifting. He takes out his packet and draws another.

 

_Click, chk._

 

* * *

 

“Gabe,” he purrs.  Gabriel sighs under him, back arching up with need.  Jesse breathes hot against a scar on his hip, kissing his way up a pilgrimage he knows so well, tracing contours already mapped.  “Gabe...” he purrs against a flushed ear.  Possessive, avaricious, warm.  He feels overwhelmed by the heat under his skin as he straddles Gabriel; a thousand things barely contained, and on top of it all a searing urge - to devour, to claim, to hold.  

 

His heartbeat grows erratic.  “Gabe…” Jesse pushes an arm up and plunges into Gabriel’s underarm, and a shameful groan escapes as he draws in the heady smell of sweat and musk and _Gabriel -_ and he can’t get enough.  His hands roam feverishly, desperate to touch skin, fingernails scratching out tiny hisses of vapour as they leave faint red marks in their wake.  Gabriel squirms but Jesse pins him in place, metallic arm gentle but insistent.  He lets his lust take the reins and licks and laps at the hollow, tasting salt and spice, burying himself deeper into the dizzying smell.  His tongue dances across the expanse of a chiseled chest and twirls around a swollen nub, teasing it with sucks and bites until he is sated with the low throaty grunts and breathless whimpers he draws.  

 

Gabriel’s scent grounds him, surrounds him, drowns him. The room darkens as it takes form, alive, enticing.  It licks at his skin, licks at his sanity.  He breathes it in as he takes Gabriel in his mouth, feel the throbbing thickness press against his tongue and tease his throat.  He feels air above his head, caressing and carding through his hair until it solidifies into Gabriel’s hand, pushing him down, and Jesse takes him gladly, letting the head slide past his throat and block his air.  His cheeks flush a delicious red as he holds it there, inebriated, humming against the sensitive head until a pleased moan escapes Gabriel’s lips in the form of a gray puff.  

 

The grip on his hair tightens, and he lets himself be pulled upwards, unabashed at how the rough handling turns him on.  Gabriel kisses him hard, tenderness replaced by an aggressive need, and Jesse returns sloppily, tongues dancing in harmonized rhythm until he tastes something _different_ , and he takes a drag as Gabriel breathes into him.  The mellow taste seeps into his lungs and he holds his breath, trapping Gabriel inside him, feeling the tickle and burn until he rests his head on strong shoulders and exhales with a sigh, drunk in the intimacy of their bond.

 

A hand strokes down his back, fingers dancing along the sensual curve of his back. He looks up through a thickening haze, and Gabriel stares into his glassy eyes with a feral intensity.  His entire body blushes a shade darker as ripples of air caress every inch of his oversensitive skin. He whimpers and writhes in Gabriel’s hold as Gabriel kissed him again, capturing him in another shared breath.  He moans into the kiss, wanting more.  Calloused hands rest around his hips, steadying him, and he gasps in delight they spread his cheeks and air prickles at his entrance.  A finger probes, stretches, quickly becoming two, then three, then blurring into an aching need for more.

 

 _Breathe, nino._  And Jesse complies, except it is no longer air he is inhaling.  Jesse was about to beg when the swollen head finally breaches him, and then there was no stopping it until Gabriel slides home in one satisfying thrust, buried to the hilt.  Jesse’s mouth half opens in a gasp, but Gabriel pulls him down again, kissing him and swallowing the lewd moan that escapes, penetrating him with an almost primal obsession.    

 

Gabriel starts thrusting before he could adjust to the burn of the stretch.  Jesse squirms and pushes back, fighting for balance and control, but finds his head caged in Gabriel’s hands, keeping their mouths locked as Gabriel fucks him with an unrelenting pace.  He moans and grunts, the erotic and bashful sounds all greedily devoured as Gabriel denies him air.  The room is a dark haze as his world starts to spin.  Hot tongue teases his own, forcing smoke into him and he gasps but all he inhales is _Gabriel_ , until he saturates his senses and his world and his everything and he chokes and he struggles, red faced and teary eyed as the hard cock rams deep into him again and again and again, punishing his spot with cruel accuracy and he sees stars and-

 

His vision blacks out for a second as his orgasm tears through him, and he paints Gabriel’s abdomen with delicious splatters of white. Intense.  Overpowering.  Gabriel lets him go and he collapses, puffing out gray smoke as he lies on Gabriel’s body, panting heavily, Gabriel’s arousal still hard and throbbing inside him.

 

“Gabe…”

 

He clings on for dear life.

 

* * *

 

They lean against the railing at their old hidden spot, looking over the the Gibraltar strait.  The dusk sky is a breathtaking painting of red and orange and magenta, thin lines of clouds like trails left of a careless brush.  The sea is calm, the color of the sky.  Gabriel faces the sunset, eyes fixated on the far horizon, seeing figures and shapes and dreams and futures Jesse cannot.  Jesse flicks his cigarette, ash falling, and steals a glance.  

 

The golden light outlines Gabriel’s silhouette, paints him in equally breathtaking glows and contrasts, highlighting the ridges and dips of his handsome features.  Jesse is taken aback by how he has not aged, a caliginous version of his commander.  He takes in the soft eyes, the rich chocolate brown with a hint of red exposed by the sun; the kissable lips, with a tiny scar on the left corner, stretched into a faint smile that is so, so rare; the muscular neck, strong shoulders and thick arms, down to the rough calloused hands - the only ones he has held as he sleeps.  Only ones he had ever known to have held dual-shotguns. Only ones to have pulled him from fire and bullets and away from harm, only ones to reach for when he falls, to pick him up when he shatters, to-

 

To dissolve into black smoke and dissipate into thin air.  Jesse has seen it countless times in battle.  First a barely visible mist, like dust blown off by the wind.  Then edges would blur, the colors would fade, the surface would shed, until suddenly it would lose shape into a curling mass of thick silky smoke, surging with life, omen of death.

 

He slides his hand along the railing, across their space, across their distance, and rests his hand on Gabriel’s.

 

It amuses and terrifies him.  Just like that, as if the body he held has always been made of nothing more.  As if that reassuring weight was merely an illusion, to shatter and disappear when he closes his fists around it and grips too hard.  

 

_-but if he stays real still, with bated breath, and lets the smoke linger...it might stay around, coil around him, settle on his skin into a permanent scent-_

 

He takes a deep, deep drag, the amber reaching the end of its life, and lets the smoke fill the hollow in his chest.  His heart beats thunderously, swelling with fondness so  sweet yet so bitter.  He doesn't realize he was holding his breath until his lungs burn and he coughs hard, choking on air as he doubles over.  Tears in his eyes.

 

“Told you to quit,” Gabriel says quietly. Unmoving gaze still lingering on the horizon.

 

“Yeah…” Jesse says softly, dropping the burnt-out cigarette. Hand still on Gabriel’s.  He turns then, to the setting sun, to figures and shapes and dreams and futures hidden from his grasp.

  
_As if i can._

 

**Author's Note:**

> Living is hard. But quitting is harder. 
> 
> Hugs and Kisses to Winter and Pigeon for beta.


End file.
